er, just how she would look, wandering
sweetly and vaguely away from her train, and the vision was so
delightful to her, that it made her laugh. "I guess you're mother's
girl," Mrs. Montgomery interpreted, and Mr. Dickerson said:

"Well, I guess she's got a good right to be. I wasn't certain whether
it was her or Miss Saunders first when I saw her, the other day."

At her door Mrs. Montgomery invited him to come in, and he said he did
not know but he would for a minute, and Cornelia's gratitude for his
praise of her mother kept her from leaving them at once. In the
dining-room, where Mrs. Montgomery set out a lunch for him, he began to
tell stories.

Cornelia had no grudge against him for the past. She was only too glad
that it had all fallen out as it did; and though she still knew that he
was a shameless little wretch, she did not feel so personally disgraced
by him, as she had at first, when she was not sure she could make him
keep his distance. He was a respite from her own thoughts, and she
lingered and lingered, and listened and listened, remotely aware that
it was wrong, but somehow bewildered and constrained.

Mrs. Montgomery went down to the kitchen a moment, for something more
to add to the lunch, and he seized the chance to say, "I know how you
feel about me, Miss Saunders, and I don't blame you. You needn't be
afraid; I ain't going to trouble you. I might, if you was a different
kind of girl; but I've thought it all over since I saw you, and I
respect you. I hope you won't give me away to Mrs. Montgomery, but if
you do, I shall respect you all the same, and I sha'n't blame you, even
then." The landlady returned, and he went on, "I was just tellin' Miss
Saunders about my friend Bob Whiteley's railroad accident. But you've
heard it so often."

"Oh, well, do go on!" said Mrs. Montgomery, setting down the plate of
cold chicken she had brought back with her.

It was midnight before he rose. "I declare I could listen all night,"
said Mrs. Montgomery.

Cornelia could have done so, too, but she did not say it. While the
talk lasted, she had a pleasure in the apt slang, and sinister wit and
low wisdom, which made everything higher and nobler seem ridiculous.
She tried helplessly to rise above the delight she found in it, and
while she listened, she was miserably aware that she was unworthy even
of the cheap respect which this amusing little wretch made a show of
paying her before Mrs. Montgomery.

She loath